


There You Are

by krelboyne



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Friendship, Internal Monologue, M/M, Reminiscing, richie is totally in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krelboyne/pseuds/krelboyne
Summary: 'I’m afraid of being here and why we’re here, and I’m afraid of seeing you again, but just like before, I hide my fear with bad jokes and a level of smug confidence I could just kick myself for. We fall into our old roles. You try to put me in my place and I relentlessly resist.'An IT (2017) work. Richie’s POV as he reflects on Eddie and their relationship. Set during their immediate reunion.





	There You Are

**Author's Note:**

> As for the reunion of the Losers, I'm following the scene in the book. Reunion dinner with a dash of crazy Derry realness. Doesn't contain spoilers for the scene. There's not much plot here, just Richie's internal monologue.

* * *

 

You may be a big boy now, but those eyes are still the same. Gentle, wide with fear. Chocolate brown.

You may not depend on me the way you used to, but you watch me intently; waiting.

This is no time to joke and my hands are shaking, but I try to make you laugh anyway. It works, as it used to, but you pretend it doesn’t, as you used to. 

There’s a band of gold around your finger that flashes mockingly as the light hits it. Taunting me. _He’s not yours, he’s not yours, he’s not yours._  I taunt back and pull you close as though you’re mine anyway; our third embrace within the first hour of reuniting. I’ve always been too much.

I’m afraid of being here and why we’re here, and I’m afraid of seeing you again, but just like before, I hide my fear with bad jokes and a level of smug confidence I could just kick myself for. We fall into our old roles. You try to put me in my place and I relentlessly resist.

There was a look saved just for me and I have replayed it over and over during the years away from you. I see it now; perfectly real, no longer a vision of the past. Sepia is flooded by colour. A sharp glare and a tight frown, promising your disapproval. Behind the glare is the familiar warmth. The edge of humour. _I’m not really angry, but please shut the hell up._

Back then, I had a certain charm that would bring colour to your pale cheeks, but I begin to doubt myself. I’m sure that complexion will remain stubbornly porcelain and scared. I try anyway, the same lop-sided grin plastered to my face despite my own harrowing fears and the same stupid words that fall from my mouth too quickly, too fast to filter through. Crude words, rude words. Crossing boundaries that, at this point, feel like scaling 12 feet fences topped with barbed wire. Still, I watch a blush form in marble skin. 

There is a group of us, like the old days but remarkably different. And yet, like the old days, my eyes keep finding you and that is where they stay whether I like it or not. I’m loud and boisterous now that we’re all here; the same as I was, except I’ve been around life’s block a few times, fallen flat and come back with a dozen bruises. You think I’m exactly the same but taller; no wiser, no calmer, still lacking in sensibility. But you’re wrong. I watch your lips tremble as you speak and I see your infinite terror no matter how you try to disguise it. I see the panic in your wide eyes and I’m reminded of that child who was raised on fear. Fear everything, and you’ll never get hurt. But you were always brave and as I sit and watch you now, I want to tell you that you still are. I know my words sound loud and my voice is sure, but you’re not alone in your trepidation and I would never leave you stranded there.

It isn’t long before the crazy shit starts and are any of us truly surprised? Chaos and fright, alarm and disgust. This seals the deal. We’re here ‘til the end and we all know it. I can’t help but wonder what the end will bring. I look at you amid the havoc and despite all my horror and rage and dread, I am soothed by your presence and I feel encouraged to fight. I reach for you but you’re already by my side. Again; old roles. I think I take your hand but perhaps it is you who takes mine. Bigger hands but still the perfect fit. Rougher hands but the gesture still does the trick and I feel better. I hope you do too.

We’re safe and sound and coming down from the sudden burst of adrenaline and downright insanity. Safe and sound, safe and sound. For now. I feel your grasp on my hand loosen and reluctantly, I let go. I regret it immediately. Your face is damp with sweat, maybe tears. I’m only looking at you. Searching for something that will reassure me and tell me you’ll be okay. I imagine taking you in my arms for the fourth time tonight, telling you that everything will be okay. Feeding you false promises that you’re more than happy to swallow. But I stop myself. The old version of me - black and white, outdated - would not hesitate. It’s like the old days but I know enough to think twice now. I glance at the hand that had been in mine and long for the contact. Thoughts of disaster and _no going back_  seep through the ever-weakening guards in my mind, and I ask myself what good can come from this. Why are we here? Are we strong enough to fight? Will we be holding hands when the battle is done? If not, can we run away right now before it’s too late?

Someone devises a plan but I’m barely paying attention. Toppled chairs and broken glasses tell me there are more pressing matters at hand than my thoughts of you and us, but I ignore the visual disarray to focus on the mess in my pounding heart; concealed and unseen. The room is tidied around me. Unruly disorder desperately hidden to maintain some normalcy. Everything is good here. Still, I’m watching you and you’re helping put things back in place though there’s a grimace on your face that screams _why bother?_ You’re doubtful too. I suppose we all are. But it’s you I worry about, it’s you I want to protect. I’ve never been a liar but I want to grab you and tell you we’ll get through this.

There’s a hand on my shoulder. I glance. Not your hand. Suddenly we’re rushing out of the room. Are we leaving danger or running towards it? I don’t have the answer. I don’t have anything to say, and that’s a first for me. Back then, I’d know exactly what to say. Now is different. In the rush, I find you and take your hand. I don’t want to be alone tonight and I don’t want to leave you alone tonight. This town is all too familiar yet so odd and strange and I can smell threat in the air; thick and unyielding. None of us are safe. I want to stick by your side.

Somewhere along the way, everybody says their temporary _goodbye_  for the night. We’ll reunite for a second time in the morning, so long as nothing happens during now and then. But my hand is still in yours and I only realise this when you try to pull away. You’re looking at me with a concern-laced expression. Are you afraid or are you worried about me? I think you realise I’m not the same. Or rather, I am the same, but I was never as brave back then as you thought I was. Smug, cocky, foolish. One big spectacle to hide all the childhood fear. You see it in my eyes now and you stay by my side. Perhaps you knew it all along. You always were by my side.

We walk together and my mind races. The others have retired to their rooms and we seem to be heading to mine. Together. Your fingers fall between my own, binding us together, and as I feel that golden ring rub against my finger tip, I wonder if you are happy. Truly happy. I would give my soul for your happiness, yet a guilty fraction of me hopes you do not find your happiness with her but with me, right now, and with me, in your memories and thoughts of long ago. I watch you as we walk. Your face is steady and determined; a look I have seen before but not one that often graces your features. Not back then, and probably not these days. I wonder if she has seen this look much. I wonder what she sees when she looks at you. Does she ever _really_  look at you? Can she see every part of you like I can? The softness, the roughness, the sadness, the hope. The boy that still lives inside you. The boy in me watched that boy grow. You should be proud of the man you are today. The demons that tried to hold that boy back did not succeed; and although you may be back in their stamping ground tonight, you will fight them again. Harder than ever. I will watch you, as I did then, battle the monsters who want to keep you detached and afraid. Battle them until you triumph; victorious.

You close the door behind us and we’re alone. Completely alone for the first time tonight. The room is dimly lit with just enough light to see your smile. It isn’t very sure of itself, but I return a smile all the same. Goofy, playful, just like always, and I see you respond to this familiarity with a wide grin that brightens your eyes and ignites your soul.

 _There you are, Eds._ It’s good to see you again.


End file.
